


DramioneTrash’s #Hauntober

by dramionetrash



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Biting, Blow Jobs, Candles, Canon Divergence - Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Draco Malfoy Has PTSD, Drapple (Harry Potter), Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Face-Sitting, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Good Draco Malfoy, Halloween, Halloween Challenge, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hauntober, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Memories, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Smut, Nightmares, Nipple Play, Nipples, October Prompt Challenge, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Pumpkin Juice (Harry Potter), Pumpkins, Ravenclaw, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Smut, Spanking, Tarot, Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Wax Play, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:14:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramionetrash/pseuds/dramionetrash
Summary: Dramione drabbles based on the tumblr hauntober prompt listAll drabbles in this collection take place in the same epilogue-verse
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 30
Kudos: 64





	1. Pumpkin

Hermione tilted her head, contemplating the now half empty Fireball bottle for only a moment before upending it into punch bowl of pumpkin juice.

“That can’t be better than fire whiskey,” Draco eyed the punch bowl suspiciously. He still wasn’t sure about letting Hermione choose everything for this Halloween party. He was already skeptical of the alcohol. But she was so excited for Halloween traditions she said wizards just don’t do that he couldn’t help being excited too. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and kissed him. “It is fire whiskey! Muggles have it too you know.”

Draco considered tasting the cinnamon scented booze before blurting out, “I actually wanted to ask you about the backyard...” Draco trailed off. He could have said that smoother. What the hell was that. What the hell was that in the yard though? It looked like Cinderella’s Coach gone rotten.

“Are the decorations ok?” Hermione worried.

“I, uh... I think so?” Draco didn’t want to hurt Hermione’s feelings if the pumpkin was supposed to look like that.

“Oh,” she looked visibly relieved. “Then what is it?”

“What’s that in the middle of the yard?”

Hermione blanched. “The...the jack-o-lantern?”

“That’s not a fucking jack-o-lantern! It’s huge!”

Hermione started laughing, “I just used on of Hagrid’s giant pumpkins! I modeled it after the jack-o-lantern from a Halloween movie.”

“Is the pumpkin in the movie that fucking huge too?”

Hermione was still laughing, she could only nod her head.

Draco was clearly confused but he was trying and she wanted to kiss him again, when the giggle fit died down.

“Is it that one with the dog? Chucky Brown?”

Hermione gasped to stop her laughs enough to answer, “Charlie Brown.”

“Yea!”

“No.”

“But Cinderella isn’t a Halloween movie.”

“No, it’s one you haven’t watched yet. Halloweentown.”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance in the way Hermione found adorable. “Why are muggles obsessed with giant fucking pumpkins?”

She did kiss him then. “I think Hagrid is more obsessed with giant pumpkins than any muggle. It was really hard to get him to part with one!”

Draco’s lips quirked into a smirk and they kissed again. He wondered if they had time to fool around before the guests started showing up but just then there was a knock at the door. Hermione pulled away to see who it was.

Party time.

Maybe some of Hermione’s muggle friends could try to explain the giant pumpkin to him.


	2. Leaves

“Ventus!” A gush of wind burst from Draco’s wand, guiding the leaves toward the pile in the middle of the yard.

He stood to admire his work. The yard was finally clear and all that was left was to bag up the mountain of crispy brown leaves almost as tall as Draco himself.  
He knew that’s what he should do. Bag up the leaves to be taken away with the rubbish. But would anyone know if he just lit them on fire and extinguished it before anyone saw? He considered. He knew his wife would be upset with him if he did. He turned to get the bags, and was caught off guard by the site of Hermione sprinting straight at him at full speed.

Confused and starting to panic he turned and dove straight into the leaf pile. Hermione dove in after him.

“What just happened?!”

But Hermione was laughing. “That’s the best part of raking the leaves Draco!”

She laid back in the pile and swished her arms and legs like she was making a snow angel.

“Should we do it again?” she asked Draco excitedly.

He could only stare at her. Had she really only asked him to clean up the yard so she could jump in the pile of leaves after? He thought she did. How very Slytherin of her!

Draco tackled his wife into the leaf pile and kissed her. “Yes! Let’s do it again!”


	3. Tea

Hermione blinked groggily, trying to orient herself. She started to get up but realized Crookshanks was asleep in her lap and decided to just stay where she was for a while.

“Guess I fell asleep in the library again,” she whispered to the sleeping cat. The fire had long since gone out, taking with it the light she was reading by and all the warmth in the room.

“Lumos,” Hermione whispered. She picked up the book she’d been reading when she dozed off.

She had barely started looking for where she’d left off when she heard her husband come in.

“I saw your wand light, thought you might want some tea.”

She smiled appreciatively as she accepted the drink. Just holding the hot cup in her hands made her feel warmer.

“It’s freezing in here.” Draco was about to relight to fire with his wand but Hermione stopped him.

She gently nudged Crookshanks awake and shoved him off her lap.

“I’ll come to bed in a minute. Just let me drink my tea.”


	4. Candy Apples

“No! I refuse! You know they still make fun of me with green apples!” Draco protested.

Hermione smirked, “I do know. And they won’t be green for long! Now how long does the caramel say to heat it for?”

Draco folded his arms over chest and shook his head defiantly.

“Fine,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “You don’t have to eat one. But you do have to help! Now caramel!”

Draco agreed to stir the caramel over the stove while Hermione dipped the apples on sticks.

She rolled each one in a plate of sugar before setting it aside.

“Sugar on caramel? Hermione your parents were dentists!” Draco scolded.

She glowered at him as she bit into the apple in her hand. She smiled through the satisfying crunch. “And?” She asked innocently. Caramel stuck to her lips and Draco wanted to kiss it off.

Hermione held out her bitten apple to him, “One bite?”

He couldn’t say no. Instead of taking the stick, he wrapped his hand around hers and brought it closer to his mouth. He took a bite. It was absolutely delicious! He was so glad Hermione had talked him into making them. He went in for another bite but Hermione pulled her hand away.

She smirked at the surprised look on Draco’s face. “But you don’t want any apples,” She said innocently.

Draco rolled his eyes. This witch. His witch. He kissed her and tasted and caramel on her lips. Tasted the caramel on her tongue.

“I was wrong, Hermione. I want everything you want to give me.” He watched the smirk on her face grow as he took the apple from her hand, “But especially candy apples!”


	5. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is smut

“Where are we going?” Hermione started to lift the blindfold and Draco gently shoved her hand away.

“Almost there.” He held both her hands behind her back now as he walked her into the backyard. He really hoped she’d like this.

Hermione had always been the more adventurous one, and Draco had always tried to give her anything she wanted, but public sex? It scared him. What if they were caught?

“I want to fuck you outside under the light of full moon,” Hermione had said. Draco was determined to give her what she wanted. 

“Ok, now you can look.” He released Hermione’s arms so she could lift her own blindfold.

In their backyard, Draco had set up a mattress on the ground, with his own silk sheets, surrounded by bottles of wine.

Hermione’s mouth hung agape, “you remembered when I said...?”

Draco nodded, plucking the blindfold off Hermione’s forehead. “I think I’ll be needing that.”

She kissed him hard, shoving him to the ground on his mattress. She straddled him, holding him down and kissing him fiercely.

Hermione breathed through a kiss, “Clothes. Off.” She scrambled to throw her clothes off as quickly as possible and Draco followed suit.

Hermione broke away just to look at him. He was so pale, practically glowing in the moonlight. She thought he looked like a holy angel. Her angel.

She tied the almost forgotten blindfold around his head before straddling him again. She could feel his hard cock between her lips, but she didn’t push him in, not yet. She rocked back and forth, grinding on Draco’s cock.

He squirmed and tried to buck up. She only enjoyed the view.

“Witch! You’re a tease!” Draco moaned.

Hermione took at as her queue to slide him in. He groaned loudly as she slid down onto him and started to bounce at a rhythm she enjoyed.

Draco abandoned his blindfold. “You look beautiful!” He did. The moonlight framed her like a halo, but it was too dark too see her face. She was like a hell angel. His angel.

Draco waited until Hermione gasped and dug her nails into his stomach, until she was about to cum. That’s when he grabbed her around the waist and flipped them around so he was on top.

She groaned in frustration, “Now who’s a tease!”

Draco smirked. He leaned down to nip at her neck and relished in the way she moaned and squirmed.

He thought she looked even more beautiful in the direct moonlight.

“I love you, Hermione.”

And then he was fucking her into the mattress so hard she could barely get out, “I love you too.”

Hermione wrapped her legs around Draco’s waist. Draco leaned down to kiss Hermione’s lips, cheek, ear, neck.

She came gasping his name. And he came moaning hers.

As they lay together, naked and satisfied, Draco started thinking he should have thought to bring a blanket out here for this part. Hermione curled into him, maybe for warmth, maybe out of love, but probably both. She kissed him and squeezed him tighter.

“I hope it was what you wanted,” Draco whispered, not wanting to fully break the quiet.

“Mmhmm,” Hermione nodded, “It was. You look gorgeous in moonlight.”


	6. Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

“Just pull over and switch with me!” Hermione insisted. But Draco was stubborn. And he would rather torture himself driving home on a foggy night than give up now and lose their bet.

He really did wonder how muggles drove in fog. Of course, most people aren’t driving while the love of their life pleasures themself in the passenger seat.

Every time Draco glanced over to watch Hermione’s fingers work over her clit, she’d clamp her legs closed and scold him, “Eyes on the road, Malfoy!”

Yes. Eyes on the road, Malfoy! As much as he wanted to pull over and fuck her into the backseat, Draco knew if he even turned on the turn signal Hermione would say she won the bet. He was going to win this bet.

“You haven’t told me yet what you want if you win,”

Draco sneered to himself. He wanted her to enchant the headlights to shine bright enough to shine though any fog. He wanted a car that would never crash. He wanted a car that would drive itself. Wait yes that!

“I want you to enchant the car to drive itself.”

Hermione sighed lazily and adjusted herself in her seat before responding, “Arthur used to have a car like that. Bad idea. Trust me.”

Draco didn’t like the idea of having anything in common with Hermione’s ex. If Ron’s father had that car it suddenly lost all appeal, no matter now much he hated driving.

“Then, I think I’d like to shag you in the backseat.”

Hermione smirked, “not in our bed like responsible adults?”

Her and Draco both laughed, but when he glanced over again he could see she was biting her lip, pondering something.

“Pull over,” she ordered him. When he didn’t immediately do as he was told she said it again, more forcefully.

“I can get us home!”

“But you don’t have to.” Draco chanced a glance at his wife then, and was pleasantly surprised to see her unbuttoning her blouse.

“Hermione!” he teased.

“Who could see us in this fog? We wouldn’t even need a concealment charm. Pull over.”

This time, Draco obliged.


	7. Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. Ron, George, and Peeves

“Since when are you a medium?” Hermione asked, her lip quirking upward.

Ron huffed, “very funny!”

“I think it is!”

Hermione bit her lip and shrugged innocently at his glare.

“I didn’t even know Peeves could leave Hogwarts,” George was casting a myriad of spells to clean the wreckage of Peeve’s visit to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but they all knew he’d only get about half of the mess cleaned before Peeves struck again.

“What did you guys do to piss him off?” Hermione asked, “I thought he’d never prank you out of respect for Fred.”

“So did we!” George and Ron answered in unison.

At that moment the door jingled, and everyone had a small moment of panic, expecting Peeves, but it was only Draco.

And then, as if on queue, came Peeves. He taunted in his whiny singsong, “Malfoy, Malfoy, the ferret boy! Now he’s Hermione Granger’s toy! Look at his face! Red as Weasley’s hair! Are you embarrassed Malfoy? Hahaha I don’t care!”

“Oy! Peeves!” Ron yelled.

The poltergeist gracelessly floated over to Ron, knocking over a display that George had just picked up.

“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” Draco asked before Ron.

“Fred is stealing Peevsie’s role. Making him leave is my goal.”

“Huh?” Ron asked.

“Fred is pulling pranks around Hogwarts,” Hermione translated, “Peeves thinks there’s only room for one mischievous ghost at the school.”

Peeves nodded excitedly. “The bushy haired witch is right. Now get Fred out or get ready to fight!”

“We can’t fight you Peeves!” George whined.

“Think of how epic the pranks would be if you and Fred worked together!” Draco offered.

“Peeves works alone!”

“Peeves, you can come in and out of Hogwarts?” Hermione asked him.

“Peeves can go where Peeves can go,” was all he said in response.

“Ok... well, what if you delivered banned products from the joke shop to the school? Stuff that would normally be confiscated by owl! Fred can’t do that!

“I think Fred can do that?” Ron whispered but Hermione and Draco both elbowed him.

“Peeves will consider. But Peeves is no quitter!” And with that Peeves disappeared through the wall.

“He’ll be back won’t he?” Ron asked.

George nodded.

Draco clapped Ron on the shoulder sympathetically, “I think your joke shop is haunted now.”

Ron only glared him.

“At least it’s Peeves!” Hermione said, “I can’t think of a better ghost to haunt a joke shop.”

“I’d rather not run a haunted joke shop!” George sighed, “Unless Fred wanted to come round here and haunt the place.”

Everyone looked up at once, the idea dawning on them as soon as it left George’s mouth. If Peeve’s can leave Hogwarts, why can’t Fred?

“You think Fred could haunt this place? Permanently?” George asked hopefully.

Ron nodded, the same excited smile on his face, “Let’s find out!”


	8. Lantern

“I understand a maze, but why a maze made out of corn?” Draco accepted his lantern and his cup of hot apple cider from Hermione.

“Honestly, I have no idea. I think it’s an American thing? But it’s also a fall thing!”

Today they’d gone book shopping, apple picking, pumpkin carving, candle making, and now into a corn maze. Hermione was feeling particularly upset this year about missing Hogwarts, about fall not being ‘back to school’ time anymore. Nothing was a substitute for Hogwarts, but it all made her happy.

Draco inspected his lantern. Electric. That made sense with the drying, flammable corn stalks they’d be walking through.

Hermione intertwined her fingers through his and, with several other muggle couples and small groups of friends, made their way into the maze.

“I’m sorry this isn’t Hogwarts,” Draco whispered in the dark.

Hermione smiled to herself, “I’ll always miss Hogwarts, Draco, but I’m glad we’ve moved on.”

Hermione glanced around and decided no one would miss them if they went missing, probably. They never did a head count. She quietly turned her lantern off.

She motioned for Draco to do the same.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Apparating home with you.”


	9. Stars

Hermione adjusted the lens of the telescope, focusing on the constellation. “I can almost see it!”

Draco squinted at the map in his hands. He hardly ever thought about the stars for which he was named, but he was named for the stars. A dragon.

He looked at Hermione fidgeting with the telescope. Hermione. She was named for Hermes. A god.

The gods and the stars. They made quite a couple! A force to be reckoned with!

He turned his attention back to the map. He felt a pang of guilt as his eyes roved over the constellations Hermione had marked she wanted to look for.

Canis Major. Sirius.

Hermione saw the look on Draco’s face and followed his eyes to the same spot on the map. She squeezed his arm fondly, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Enough of it was.”

Hermione nodded and looked up at the stars, considering how to answer. She blamed Draco for a lot of things, and they were always honest about that, but Sirius’ death wasn’t his fault. None of the death was his fault. They were too young, it wasn’t their war, or rather, it shouldn’t have been.

“Do you really think we just go up there?” Draco flicked his eyes toward the sky, “You know, after we die?”

Hermione breathed out an awkward laugh, “Well Fred is still at Hogwarts.”

“Besides ghosts! You know, after we move on?”

Hermione looked up again. She hated to think about it. Where do lost souls go?

Finally she looked back into Draco’s eyes. They were mesmerizing but so full of sadness, and she wished she could take it away, but they’d all lived through too much loss, lost too much.

“I think, maybe, we become stars.”


	10. Forest

“Whatever prank you’re trying to pull I won’t fall for it!” Draco announced, but he still obediently followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the Forbidden Forest.

Harry laughed, “This isn’t a prank, Malfoy! Trust me, I was there!”

“That car saved my life from the giant man eating spiders!” Ron was still haunted by the memory.

Draco gulped. Giant man eating spiders? In these woods? They had to be pranking him!

When Hermione told Draco that Arthur’s old car was “oh actually she’s still alive, rather ruthless actually, and she lives in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts” he’d laughed. Surely she’d been joking. Only she wasn’t. Or she claimed she wasn’t. “Her name is Anglia.”

And when Draco didn’t believe her she’d owled Harry to ask for a favor. Being the new DADA professor, he said of course he’d lead them into the forest to find the car. He’d even owled Ron and asked if he wanted to come too. Why not get the whole gang back together! It’s not like the last time the four of them were in the Forbidden Forest together fucking Voldemort was lurking in the trees or anything like that.

Up ahead Draco thought he saw two flashlight beams. Who else was stupid enough to sneak into the forest at night?

“I think I see her headlights!” Ron called, trudging ahead to get a better look.

Headlights? The three of them ran after Ron and came to a stop in front of a wild, overgrown...car. It was a car.

“Anglia!” Ron flopped down with his arms spread wide over the hood of the car in a gesture Draco almost thought was a hug. No wait, it was a hug. Ron was hugging a wild car.

And the car...shook? And beeped it’s horn all on it’s own in what Draco hoped was an affectionate response.

“Anglia, you remember Harry!” Harry waved and the car beeped again. “I’d like you to meet my other best friend, Hermione, and her husband, Draco.” Ron gestured toward them.

The car honked its horn twice in acknowledgement.

They hadn’t been trying to pull a prank on him after all. Anglia was real. Draco smiled and waved to the car, but then he realized, Ron had mentioned giant man eating spiders in the forest. And he probably wasn’t kidding.


	11. Nightmare

“I said choose, Lucius!”

Draco watched helplessly as his father cowered before Voldemort. None of the other death eaters dared say a word. He remembered this day clearly. The looks on their faces ranged from fear to pity, but now everyone else was just a faceless mass. Everyone except Fenrir who stood in front, licking his lips.

Narcissa gripped Draco’s hand, squeezing so hard it hurt, or at least that’s how he remembered it, but now she didn’t touch him.

And next Lucius would look Draco in the eye, say “I’m sorry,” and choose him. Let Fenrir attack him. Some of the death eaters with more sensitive stomachs would look away. His mother would scream. Voldemort would laugh.

He knew this memory by heart.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said to Draco right on queue, but then he didn’t follow the script. He turned to Voldemort and said, “Narcissa.”

Voldemort laughed and Fenrir pounced at her. This time it was Draco who screamed.

He awoke in a cold sweat with an actual scream that scared his wife awake.

Hermione shot up with a gasp, realized but pained to see it was only Draco. “Nightmare?”

He nodded, his fingers twisted in the sleeve of his nightshirt, which concealed his scars from that night with Fenrir.

“Do your scars hurt?” Hermione whispered, gently reaching out toward Draco’s arm. He let her roll up his sleeve to check on them as he shook his head no.

“No, it was only a nightmare.”

Draco gently ran his finger over Hermione’s exposed forearm. Her exposed scars. What would Aunt Bella say now if she could see them. Draco smirked to himself, she’d be turning over in her grave.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco, questioning the look on his face.

“It was only a nightmare. But I woke up to a dream.” He kissed the scars on her arm.

Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched her arm back, but she couldn’t help but smile.

She curled into him, cuddling close with her head on his chest before attempting to go back to sleep.

Draco held her to him and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he would fall back to sleep though. He was comfortable with his wife asleep in his arms, and with the knowledge that they’ve already lived through all their nightmares.


	12. Black Cat

“We already have a cat,” Draco protested.

“Not a black one.” Hermione carried the cat inside with Crookshanks following at her heels.

“Hermione, you can’t take in every stray you find,” but Draco knew there was no telling Hermione no. They had another cat now.

He followed her to the kitchen. Crookshanks seemed to be helping Hermione check the new cat over, but wasn’t sure why. He already knew she’d insist on taking it to the muggle animal healer tomorrow. He pulled two cans of cat food out of the cupboard.

“Mreow?” Crookshanks looked up at Draco.

“You can share. We feed you enough.”

Hermione stifled a chuckle. Draco knew she loved it when he had conversations with her pets, but Crookshanks really was a sarcastic bloke! 

“So what are you gonna name this one?”

Hermione pet the black cat affectionately, “I’m not gonna name her yet. Not until I take her to the vet and see if she has a chip.”

“I don’t understand this muggle thing with giving animals chips. Potatoes can’t be good for them.”

Hermione snorted, “it’s umm...well a different kind of chip.”

Draco wasn’t going to ask her to explain. Maybe later.

“If she doesn’t have a chip then? Any thoughts on a name?”

Hermione looked into the cat’s beautiful green eyes. Her lip quirked as she thought of naming her Slytherin.

She turned to Draco, her lips still half upturned, “Salem.”

“Like the town from the witch trials? From history of magic class?”

“Yesss...” she dragged out the sound, “but it’s also a reference to a TV show about a witch. She had a black cat named Salem.”

Draco laughed to himself, “Muggles have an awful lot of movies and shit about magic for them to not even believe in it.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and pet Salem.

She’d have to remember to watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch with Draco later.


	13. Bat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚾️

“One more time! I know I’ll get it this time!” Draco was flushed from anger but he was determined to get this spell right.

Hermione stood with her arms folded and gave Draco a dramatic eye roll, but when she turned to sit on the bed she was smiling.

Draco plucked another toothpick from the box, aimed his wand at it, and said, “Clava!”

Again, instead of turning into a paddle, it turned into a bat.

Draco let out an exasperated groan as he tossed the bat into the pile. He had created a whole pile of bats! And not one paddle.

He joined Hermione on the bed, slumping down in defeat. “I don’t suppose you could spank me with a bat?”

Hermione chuckled but shook her head no. “Accio paddle!”

The desired item emerged from Hermione’s bedside table. It came to rest with a loud smack in her lap, and she winced when it hit her bare thighs.

“You knew I couldn’t do it!” Draco laughed, shaking his head.

“No! I just wanted to have a backup, just in case. And aren’t you glad I did! So I’m not smacking your arse with a fucking bat.”

They both smiled.

“Now bend over, darling.”


	14. Spider

“Ron was just kidding about the giant man-eating spiders, right?” Draco darted his flashlight back and forth across the yard, as if in the split second of light a killer spider would reveal itself.

Hermione smirked and rolled her eyes. Even if there were giant killer spiders at Hogwarts, which she didn’t doubt, they weren’t going to pop up in their backyard. Still, she couldn’t fault Draco’s paranoia.

“I wouldn’t know.” Her words came out clipped and cold like the bad memory. “I was petrified when Harry and Ron went after the acromantula.”

“When did Potter fight a bloody acromantula?” Draco whirled around on Hermione. How on earth had he missed this story. But then the word ‘petrified’ registered in his mind.

He noticed Hermione’s jaw tighten just before she opened it to say, “Before he fought a bloody basilisk.”

Draco fiddled with the flashlight, unsure what to say. So, it was their second year then. They were practically babies. And he was cruel to Hermione and said unforgivable things to her, about her. Yet here they were, and she had forgiven him.

“Why do you insist we keep that secret?”

Draco didn’t have to ask which secret. He may have been a massive prat second year, but like everyone else, he saw what was coming. And he had a bit more information than everyone else. He knew about the basilisk from his father. It would have been easy enough to slip a note to any of the them, but he was a coward. He’d waited until he was too late and Hermione was petrified.

No one would have known that he snuck into the hospital wing and stuffed the note in her hand. He was almost sure even she wouldn’t have known it was him. But he stood around and apologized to her like a git, thinking she’d never know.

Turns out the petrified students could hear everything. They just couldn’t move.

Hermione never told her friends about that, just held onto the secret knowledge that, when it mattered most, Malfoy was on the right side.

Only Draco wanted to keep it a secret, even now.

“Why reopen the chamber of secrets?” he half-heartedly joked. “Just let them think you solved it.”

Draco wondered if Hermione’s concern, even now, was that anyone would think she tore a page from a library book.

Hermione folded her arms over chest and narrowed her eyes at Draco, seeking more of an explanation why he wouldn’t take credit for his good deed.

But Draco didn’t have much of a reason, he was just happy with the way his life had turned out. He didn’t want to tempt fate by trying to change the past, even if it was something he’d really done. He didn’t need to rewrite himself as a good guy. He wasn’t good then. He was a prick. He was in a good place now.

Draco shrugged and resumed his spider hunt, waving the flashlight aimlessly around the yard. “A fucking acromantula...”

“His name was Aragog.” Draco turned back to Hermione with his eyebrows raised. “Friend of Hagrid.”

“A friend of Hagrid tried to kill Harry Potter?”

“And a son of a death eater tried to warn Harry Potter what was inside the chamber of secrets. No one said second year made sense.”

“I don’t think any of our time at Hogwarts made sense.”


	15. Raven

“I don’t like the bad memories up here.” It’s not as if they could ever throw any of it away, so why even bother with ‘cleaning’ the attic. It just meant strolling down memory lane and then boxing it all back up again.

“We have some good memories in here...” Hermione picked up a photo album and sat down on the chest where it had been to look through it.

“Is that our wedding?” Draco asked, coming to look at the photos with her. She nodded as she ran a finger fondly over the smiling faces of their younger selves.

She stood suddenly. “You don’t think this box is from our wedding? Do you?”

“Let’s see!”

Together they tried to force the lid open but it wouldn’t budge.

“Oh!” Hermione retrieved her wand from her pocket. “Cistem Aperio!”

With a crack so loud someone could have apparated into the attic, followed by a soft click, the lid creaked open.

They gently removed more photo albums to see what was underneath.

“Oh!” Hermione squealed as she pulled her veil from the box.

Draco couldn’t stop smiling as he held up her dress, stained with grass around the bottom from where they’d run while their friends threw rice at them. A muggle thing, Hermione insisted on it. And, Draco chuckled to himself at the memory. Arthur Weasley was really excited to learn about muggle wedding traditions. He wanted to know the function of the rice and purpose of the rice and even Hermione Granger didn’t have all the answers.

Another muggle tradition Hermione had insisted on was ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’

Her veil had been her mother’s. Her dress was new. His mother had lent her a goblin made gold necklace from their Gringotts vault. And Professor McGonagall had given her something blue.

Draco could still recall the laugh and smile on Hermione’s face when she first held up a Ravenclaw house banner.

“When I was a student being sorted,” Professor McGonagall had said, “I was nearly a hat stall because the poor sorting hat couldn’t decide if I was more wise or more brave. It chose brave, but I’m no less wise for it, and neither are you dear.”

Hermione had almost the same smile on her face now as she pulled the Ravenclaw banner from the trunk.

“Something blue?”

Hermione looked up at Draco, the start of something mischievous in her eyes, “You know, I think I’ve come to prefer something green.”


	16. Moth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

“Like a moth drawn to a flame, you’ll always be drawn to me.” Hermione’s voice was a husky whisper. Sexy. Powerful. Scary.

Draco tried to lay completely still under her, but he squirmed every time a new drip of wax slid off the candle and hit his sensitive skin.

There was no magic to this ‘ritual.’ Not really anyway. Hermione had read it in a ‘spell book’ she bought in a ‘magic shop’ in a muggle village. But it felt like magic.

Hermione continued her chant, “like a moth drawn to a flame, you’ll always be drawn to me.”

Hermione was a flame. She was fire. She glowed with power.

She traced her finger through the warm wax on Draco’s stomach, drawing a sigil to match the one painted on her own stomach.

Hermione scooted forward and the friction against his cock made his breath hitch. He let out a groan.

She smirked at him. Merlin, he’d done it now. Hermione rocked back and forth, slowly. The teasing was worse torture than the wax.

“Like a moth drawn to a flame, you’ll always be drawn to me.”

Draco could hardly focus. He would be her moth. He would be her anything. 

Without warning Hermione blew out the candle, sending them into complete darkness. He felt her lift her hips and he groaned at the loss of contact in the seconds before she grasped his cock, lining up to push him inside her.

They both gasped when she sank down on him and immediately started riding him at the quick pace she liked.

The ‘binding spell’ would be complete when they both came.

Hermione fell forward enough to kiss Draco, not caring about the soft wax tangling in her hair.

“Like a moth drawn to a flame...” she whispered between kisses.

“I’ll always be drawn to you,” Draco finished.

Hermione moaned Draco’s name against his lips as she came. He held her hips up and continued thrusting into her. She nipped his lip and squeaked in protest until the over sensitivity ebbed away and she fell back into a series of soft moans.

“I’ve never known Hermione Granger-Malfoy to only cum once,” Draco teased.

Hermione bit his lip harder, prompting a low growl from Draco before pumped his hips even harder.

Hermione started moving her hips again, until they were moving in sync somewhere between a battle and a perfect harmony.

The wax on on Draco’s chest hardened into a solid form, holding Hermione to him by her stray hairs. Binding them together.

She came with her hands twisting the now hardened wax around Draco’s nipples. It was enough to make him howl in pain or pleasure. He came while Hermione’s orgasm was still waning.

They kissed and panted while Draco held Hermione to him. 

Maybe there was some magic to the ritual after all. Or maybe they never needed magic. Maybe like a moth drawn to a flame, he would always be drawn to her.


	17. Owl

They weren’t expecting a letter from Draco’s mother or from Harry. Ron still might send an owl but he was getting the hang of texting.

“Owl for you,” Hermione mumbled sleepily as she turned over, away from the window.

The owl pecked at the glass for attention.

Draco wanted to say it wasn’t for him, but truth be told, even from the bed he recognized the M in the wax seal. Must be mother.

He got up and opened the window. It was Hermione’s idea to keep a tin of owl treats next to every window, high enough that the cats couldn’t get into them. The owl dropped the envelope on the floor in its dash for the treat tin.

Draco picked it up while the owl was eating. It was a letter from a Malfoy if he’d ever seen one, but it was addressed to Hermione.

“Umm, for you, actually.” Draco climbed back under the covers as Hermione was starting to sit up, preparing herself to open the mail. “It’s from my mum.”

He watched her reaction carefully. His mother wasn’t faultless. She never believed in the death eaters ideas of supremacy, but she did believe in pure blood supremacy. The idea of killing muggleborns horrified her, but so did marrying them.

Hermione’s face gave nothing away as her eyes roved over the paper. And then at the end, she smirked. Did Draco see that correctly? She smirked!

“What did she say?”

Hermione chuckled softly and tossed the letter to the floor.

“Our dear friend Neville was collecting potion ingredients from the manor stores and now his toad is loose. Would we please come catch it.”

“My mother wrote you to catch a bloody toad?” Draco considered getting up to retrieve the letter and read it himself but Hermione was already curling into him, making herself comfortable against his chest.

“We can go after breakfast.”

“She wants us today?” It wasn’t like his mother at all to send an invitation on such short notice.

“Mmhmm. She really hates the toad.” Hermione shifted and Draco felt her smiling against him. “So actually, we can go after lunch.”

“Why’d she owl you though and not me?”

Hermione shrugged. “For old time’s sake? Neville might have mentioned I’m rather fond of Trevor.”

The owl perched on the now empty treat box hooted, probably waiting for a reply to fly back with.

“Just go!” Draco whispered. The owl seemed perplexed but eventually flew out the open window.

Draco sighed in relief to have the bird gone. “Merlin’s beard! I prefer texting!”


	18. Toad

Draco could just tell from the look on his mother’s face that she was angry at them for taking so long. She probably wanted to scold him. But she’d asked Hermione for help, not him, so she had to purse her lips and hold her tongue.

Without a word Hermione stepped to the side and became fascinated with a rose bush, leaving Draco space to talk to his mother if he wanted to.

She didn’t hate Narcissa, but she didn’t forgive her. Draco knew the tension between his wife and his mother would never settle until Hermione felt Narcissa was properly punished and remorseful and even then, it was a slim chance.

Hermione had mentioned once that she kept a woman in a jar for a few months and Narcissa could use the same treatment. When Draco had stared back at her, horrified, she’d rolled her eyes and said “well it had air holes, I’m not a monster!”

Draco didn’t want to upset his mother but he didn’t want to upset Hermione either. She had chosen to come when she could have ignored Narcissa’s letter. He decided to turn with his wife, pretending to be interested in the roses.

Realizing she wouldn’t be greeting anyone, Narcissa awkwardly turned back inside.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered.

Draco didn’t need to be thanked. He would stand by her, always.

“So tell me more about this history with Trevor,” Draco teased, “Should I be jealous?”

Hermione laughed. “I’ve been helping Neville find Trevor since my first time on the Hogwarts Express! Before I even met Ron and Harry.”

Draco laughed. “You’ve been friends with a bloody toad longer than them!”

Hermione started to say something but then a croak came from the rose bush. Slowly, quietly, they both bent down to look underneath.

Sure enough there was Trevor.

He hopped happily into Hermione’s arms and croaked as she pet the top of his head as if he was one of her cats.

“That was a lot easier than I expected.” Draco looked at the toad suspiciously.

“Oh, he really isn’t hard to catch. I learned third year he likes butterbeer.”

Draco looked closer then and realized that Hermione wasn’t just petting Trevor, she was rubbing butterbeer on him.

Hermione explained, “toads don’t drink through their mouths, they absorb the liquid though their skin. I read about it in Familiarizing Yourself With Your Familiar: A Guide on Caring for Magic-Seeking Creatures.”

Of course she had. “Do you have enough butterbeer for us?” He asked half jokingly, but half hopefully.

She didn’t. “Come on, let’s get Neville his toad back.”


	19. Familiars

Draco sat curled up by the fireplace, a mug of tea barely touched and long gone cold on the table beside him, and Hermione’s copy of Familiarizing Yourself With Your Familiar: A Guide on Caring for Magic-Seeking Creatures in his lap.

Draco was starting to regret never having a familiar when he was younger. It was lonely.

Hermione had a whole notebook full of her own observations and criticism of the advice in the book since she wouldn’t just write in the margins.

The book had said that cats prefer to work with wizards who are brave. They probably meant Gryffindors. But Hermione had noted that cats were actually more suited to rule followers as opposed to rule breakers. She noted Filch and Harry’s mum and herself.

Draco snorted when he read that frogs enjoy music and were well suited to wizards who intend to pursue careers in the performing arts. Flitwick was really onto something with the Frog Choir!

He couldn’t find a familiar suited to him though. What animal likes a coward? A former arse who’s just alright?

Crookshanks jumped up on Draco’s lap. He meowed and head butted his hand until Draco pet him.

A cat shouldn’t be suited for him. Neither should a kneazle. But then again, neither should Hermione. Some things that shouldn’t work together just do.

Draco scratched Crookshanks behind the ear and realized suddenly, he wasn’t that lonely kid anymore. He didn’t need a familiar.

He had Hermione. And their friends. And her familiar. 

Crookshanks purred in Draco’s lap.

“I feel the same way, Crookie.”


	20. Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Draco was absolutely tingling with excitement. The anticipation was as good as foreplay for how hard it made him.

Hermione carefully poured two glasses of the pearly white liquid.

She also poured two glasses of the antidote and left them waiting on her bedside table where they looked just like any other glasses of water.

“Are you ready?” Hermione and Draco each took a glass of Amortentia and inhaled deeply.

Hermione chuckled softly. “It still smells minty, but now it smells like home.”

Draco closed his eyes and sniffed his again. It did smell familiar. Like their own house. Like Crookshanks. Like a mix of musty paper scent of old books and the astringent chemical paper scent of new books. Like Hermione.

He clinked his glass against hers and they swallowed the potion.

It hit Draco first. His eyes went glassy and he swayed like he was drunk.

Then it hit Hermione.

They giggled and started to kiss and pull each other’s clothes off as if they’d never done it before, and like they’d done countless times before.

When Hermione finally had Draco’s cock free she hurriedly crawled into his lap and slid down onto him, as if the seconds of waiting were torture.

Hermione was waiting for it to feel different, to feel special. But she didn’t feel different. She was in love and fucking the man she loved.

“What’s wrong?” Draco brushed a hand under her chin to tilt her head towards him. “Do you want to stop?”

That’s what she meant! Shouldn’t they be too infatuated with each other to even consider stopping? She shook her head no and ground down on Draco, seeking relief from at least one of the things bothering her at the moment.

Draco licked his thumb and slid it between her legs, rubbing gentle, teasing circles over Hermione’s clit while he thrusted his hips up to here.

Hermione groaned and Draco chuckled before rubbing her clit faster. 

“Draco, does it feel different for you?”

He shrugged. “A little? I feel a bit like I’m tipsy.”

Draco grabbed Hermione and flipped them around without warning, scrambling on top to make her cum.

He kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe while steadily rubbing her clit.

Still Hermione looked bothered. “Did I brew it wrong?”

“I don’t think you did. It looked right and it smelled right.”

“Then why–“ Draco cut Hermione off with a kiss.

“Hermione, we’re already in love. A potion can’t make me love you anymore than I do.”

Draco felt Hermione’s pussy clench around his cock at his words. He smirked down at her.

“Are you getting off on that, lioness? Do you like knowing that the most powerful love potion in the world can’t make me love you more than I already do?”

Another clench.

Draco growled low as a whisper in Hermione’s ear. He loved her gasp and the goosebumps that sprung up along her arms.

“I want to feel you cum on my cock, lioness. Cum for me.”

Draco knew she was close. So close. He growled in her ear again and this time bit down on her neck.

Hermione’s mouth opened in a moan Draco couldn’t hear. She tilted her head to give him better access but Draco had already left a bruising love bite there and was kissing his way down to her tits.

“I love you,” Hermione said, enjoying Draco’s slower thrusts now.

He trailed kisses all along her body until he came.

Hermione curled into Draco and he kissed her forehead.

Hermione dared to think that maybe cuddling would be better with the potion.  
But it wasn’t. 

Draco’s words buzzed in her head. 

The most powerful love potion in the world can’t make me love you more than I already do.


	21. Garden

Narcissa chose her plants for their usefulness first, their appearance second. But she arranged her garden by appearance first, keeping the most beautiful, and most expensive, plants prominently displayed in the front.

She knew this made the garden more difficult to navigate when you had a specific purpose, such as gathering the ingredients for a particular potion. And if one of the ingredients was ugly you’d have to wander rather far into the garden and poke and prod behind the more presentable plants.

She sat and sipped her tea as Draco walked past the flowers he was looking for for the third time now.

She decided it was best not to offer to point out the agrimonia. If he needed agrimonia he was probably brewing a laxative potion and Narcissa had no idea if he was planning to prank Hermione or if he was constipated.

She had no plans of having that conversation.

Narcissa glanced into her teacup before pouring herself another cup. Huh...looks like a blob? No no no. A circle. It’s a circle! The sun? The sun would mean great happiness. She smiled to herself as she thought, ‘I suppose it is.’

Draco walked past the agrimonia a fourth time now and Narcissa let him get lost deeper in the garden.


	22. Cauldron

Ron plopped a bouquet of wilting flowers into each cauldron as if it were a vase, as George followed close behind making some attempt to artfully arrange them.

“Would you let me do it!” Ron dropped the last of his flowers into the only empty cauldron.

“Not if you’re gonna leave them looking like that!” George started in pulling at the stems.

They surveyed their store with a bit of pride before a wash of sadness overtook them.

They’d bickered over doing something for Fred in April for his birthday, in May for his death day, or in October for Halloween when all the ghosts at Hogwarts celebrated. They’d gone with October.

Now while other shops had cute black and orange decorations all about them, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes looked like someone had thrown a funeral in a joke shop.

At the sound of someone coming in Ron and George both excited pushed toward the door thinking maybe it was Fred, if Peeves could get to them, but it was Harry, Hermione, and Draco.

Each baring a prank in honor of Fred.

Harry held up an extendable ear. They had long since improved it but he was still using the old one from when they were kids.

“Sometimes I leave the room during class just to hear the kids gossip,” he admitted. “I don’t think I ever cared so much about who was dating whom when I was student but now...” he trailed off chuckling softly to himself. “I’ve heard Fred somehow gets into every house common room and the heads of house have stopped trying to kick him out.”

Everyone laughed, but it faded away quickly.

Draco held up a happy bubble box.

“Tea?” Ron scoffed. George smirked. George had never told Ron about that tea. 

Draco caught sight of George’s face and decided not to say why he liked this tea so much. “Yea, just tea. It’s my favorite. Fred sold me my first box of it when this place first opened.”

Hermione was very familiar with happy bubble tea when she as a prefect. It was weed in a teabag. And naturally it got right through all the magical detection because it wasn’t magical. Was it even against the rules? She assumed it should be but the wizarding world never bothered to make rules outlawing drugs. They considered that a muggle issue.

And they certainly never outlawed owning certain plants, even poisonous ones. They’re potion ingredients. So Narcissa grew weed in her garden.

She supposed it was to her advantage now that her and Draco could use the happy bubble tea in peace and no one was bothered about it.

Hermione held up a bottle of potion.

“First I want to say thank you George so much for giving me a cauldron coated with bulbadox powder! Fucking git!” She smacked him hard but he was still grinning.

“It exploded then?” Her scowl didn’t deter his smile.

“Ironically,” Hermione quipped, “Since I was trying to improve the calming draught.”

“Did you?” Ron asked.

She held up the bottle again. “We’ll see.” She pushed it into Ron’s hands. He awkwardly wrapped his fingers around the bottle to avoid dropping it.

“Could I take one of these cauldrons to keep working on it though?” she asked,  
not sure if she was asking Ron or George. 

But it was George who answered.

“Here.” He pulled the flowers out of the closest cauldron and thrust them into Draco’s hands.

He smirked, “Sorry George, I’m married.”

Ron and Harry both snorted and Hermione stifled a laugh as she accepted the cauldron from George.

“No bulbadox powder this time,” George smiled in a mischievous way that made Hermione suspect he was lying. She wouldn’t fall for that twice.


	23. Candle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

They could just fuck with the lights on.

They could just use an hourglass or a kitchen timer.

They knew this was unnecessarily old fashioned. But there was a certain thrill to it.

Draco and Hermione walked around the room naked, lighting candles. It was taking longer than it should because they kept sneaking glances at each other’s bodies cast in that beautiful glow.

Once the last candle was lit Draco turned to Hermione, seeking permission to continue. She gave him the silent nod he was waiting for and they made their way to the bed.

Hermione pushed Draco onto his back and crawled on top of him.

They started slow. The beginning was always slow.

Hermione kissed Draco’s soft lips, his tensed neck, the curve of his shoulder, down and down his stomach.

Draco’s lips parted in a moan when Hermione’s lips finally kissed their target.  
A quick gentle peck right on the tip of his aching cock.

She licked up the length of him once. Then again. On her tongue’s third lick up Draco’s cock she let it linger on the tip, tracing it in lazy circles.

Hermione loved teasing Draco like this. He groaned and bucked his hips, but she only pressed her smirking lips against his length in another cruel kiss.

She started kissing her way back up Draco’s body until they were face to face again.

He let out an anguished groan, “I will get you back for that.”

“I’m counting on it!”

Draco loved the mischief in Hermione’s eyes. The challenge in them.

Hermione rearranged herself so she kneeled with one leg on either side of Draco’s head.

She gripped the headboard to steady herself as she lowered her pussy to her husband’s waiting mouth.

He didn’t tease. He went right for her clit and flicked his tongue over it. Hermione gasped in surprise and gripped the headboard tighter.

Draco smirked to himself as he wrapped his hands around Hermione’s thighs to hold her to him. He didn’t stop until Hermione’s thighs started to tremble in his grasp. She moaned, so close to cumming. She was just about to. 

“Please don’t stop,” Hermione moaned out as if she knew what he was planning.

Draco slid his tongue back into his mouth and clamped it shut.

Hermione groaned and ground down on Draco’s smirking face but it was too late. The orgasm has slipped away.

She swung one leg over Draco’s head to kneel next to him.

He sat up on his knees now too to face her.

“I told you I’d get you back.”

Hermione grabbed Draco’s face and kissed the devilish grin right off it.

He moaned into her mouth when she grabbed his still hard cock, still kissing him fiercely.

She stroked him with a gentleness that contrasted the harshness of their lips.

Draco slid his hand between Hermione’s legs and with a little hard rubbing of her clit she was quickly to the edge again.

He pulled his hand back.

Hermione squeezed Draco’s balls hard in retaliation. He away from their kissing to groan in pain.

Draco was about to complain about the pain or promise to get her back for that when he noticed the room was just a shade darker.

He looked around the culprit. There was one. One candle burned out. So far.

Hermione’s eyes found it too.

The anticipation put them both on edge. But Draco’s eyes glinted with a fiery mischief to rival the candles at the knowledge that Hermione was more on edge.

He could edge her two or three more times. But she might kill him for him.

He tried to put his hand between her legs again but she squeezed them shut.

“Too horny,” Hermione breathed out on a whisper. “Draco, I swear I’m gonna kill you, but I’m gonna fuck you first.”

They laid down again and went back to making out. They didn’t touch each other but it was still a tease. Their naked bodies pressed together in the slowly darkening room.

“Almost,” Hermione whispered in Draco’s ear and just her breath on his ear felt like too much. He felt too sensitive for it.

The last of the candles were down to stubs now. As soon as they burned out he would be on her. On maybe she would be on him. It was always a bit frenzied. And oh Merlin he was too horny now.

Draco moaned when Hermione nipped gently at his earlobe.

She looked up at him with a sweet, innocent smile on her face that he knew was a lie. The mischief in her eyes was what was coming.

“I’m not falling for it.” He teased. And she let her smile give way to a smirk.

That was the last thing he saw before the last candle burned out and they were in total darkness.


	24. Tarot

Draco and Hermione wandered the fair grounds, excitedly moving from booth to booth.

They’d both agreed to avoid the haunted houses. They’d had enough scares for one life time.

They went for the rides and screamed until their throats were sore, silently grateful to feel this pain for joy now.

While they taking a little break from the excitement and munching on candy apples – hey, they’d really grown on Draco – they passed a fortune teller’s tent.

Hermione tried to walk past but Draco stopped her.

The fortune teller, Mademoiselle Cassandra according to her tent, winked at Draco and Hermione bristled with jealously that she knew was unwarranted but couldn’t help.

“Do the cards call to you, darling?” Mademoiselle Cassandra asked Draco in a syrupy drawl that pulled him in.

The cards did call to him. He was curious about divination. Even if he didn’t think he’d find any real divination at a muggle fair.

Hermione pointedly did not like divination.

But she followed Draco into the gimicky looking tent and they sat down together at Mademoiselle Cassandra’s table.

Draco reached into his pocket and handed Mademoiselle Cassandra a £10 note. A three card spread.

Past. Present. Future.

She shuffled her tarot cards and one by one pulled the three from the deck as she shuffled and lined them up face down in front of the couple.

“Your past,” Mademoiselle Cassandra flipped the first card with a flourish, “the tower reversed. Your present,” she dramatically flipped the next card, “the lovers.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. It seemed like a real scam to call any couple that walked in the lovers. 

“Your future, the two of wands.”

Draco felt a slight unease about the word wands. It was a coincidence though he was sure.

“So,” Mademoiselle Cassandra slapped both hands flat against the table as of that were part of the reading. “I can see from the cards that in your past was a horrible, horrible event. Something tragic that you both tried to avoid but could not. The suffering was inevitable.”

Draco and Hermione quickly glanced at each other, then back to Mademoiselle Cassandra. No muggle would know about the war.

“Now I see you have each other. Tarot cards don’t lie and I would not have pulled this card if you were not a couple fit to be called lovers.” Mademoiselle Cassandra spoke directly to Hermione. Her eye roll hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Your future,” she jabbed a finger at the card. “This card means plans. Planning something.”

“Planning what?” Draco asked.

“I cannot see.”

“What you going to be planning without me?” Hermione asked Draco, referring to the image on the card of a man by himself.

Mademoiselle Cassandra answered, “the image is not necessarily the part of the card is drawn to you. It could be the number two. It could be the wands.”

That quickly quieted them. That is precisely what they were. Lovers. Two wands. Reversed tower survivors.

“Thank you, Mademoiselle Cassandra,” Hermione stood and Draco followed her out of the tent, back into the crisp autumn air and the noises of the fair.

Mademoiselle Cassandra chuckled to herself and, just out of curiosity, pulled the next card.

“What are those two going to plan?” she said to herself. She was expecting the cards to tell her a baby. But the next card was, “justice.”

She looked back at their past, the tower reversed. Yes. They have something to make right.

Mademoiselle Cassandra wanted to ponder the cards a bit more but another customer poked her curious head into her tent. She scooped up the couple’s spread and shuffled her tarot cards as the woman sat down.

Mademoiselle Cassandra mumbled to herself while the girl pondered what kind of spread to buy. “I hope you get your justice, lovers.”


	25. Crystals

Draco wasn’t really sure what he was looking for. The metaphysical store had lots of “spell” books and tarot cards and crystals. Hermione liked the “spell” books but she already had so many and he wanted to get her something special.

He picked up a crystal carved to look like a little otter. Hermione’s patronus. Maybe she’d use it as a paper weight? He put it down and kept looking.

In the back of the store were some more risqué items. Beautiful posters featuring nearly nude models. Crystal pipes for smoking.

And there was a display of crystal penises.

Most of them were small, barely an inch big, but there were a couple of real size ones that looked like crystal dildos.

One was a rich blue color. One was a cloudy translucent pink. And one was swirls of different shades of brown.

Which one should he get Hermione? All of them?

He brought them all to the front till. He could tell the cashier was trying to laugh but he didn’t care.

“Hi, um, are all of these...you know...?” Draco didn’t actually want to say ‘safe to stick in your pussy’ but he hoped she got it.

She did, and she was playing dumb to make him say it. “Sorry, what?”

“Are they all safe to use?”

“Depends how you use them.”

Draco looked her right in the eye, “as dildos.”

The cashiers smirk really irritated him.

She pointed to the blue penis. “Lapis lazuli is toxic. I wouldn’t.” She pointed to the pink one, “Rose quartz is probably the safest. Do you just want that one then?”

Draco was pretty sure lapis lazuli was Hermione’s birthstone. And the brown one reminded him of her eyes.

“No, I’ll take them all.”

The cashier raised an eyebrow but punched the price into her till and started wrapping the crystal penises in tissue paper before bagging them.

Draco paid and hurried out to find a safe place to apparate home and show Hermione her new crystals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the third crystal is tiger’s eye


	26. Horns

Hermione charmed her halo to stay floating 3 inches about her head. Her white gown shimmered with every step she took and Draco couldn’t help staring. She looked absolutely ethereal.

Draco’s fiery red suit made him feel less like a devil and more like a Gryffindor.

Hermione charmed his horns to stick to his temples and gave him fangs for good measure.

And they both used ocular colovaria to make their eyes match their costumes. Hermione’s eyes were golden and Draco’s were burning red.

Hermione bit her lip, staring at Draco. He looked demonic. It shouldn’t have been so sexy to her. And yet...

She stopped him at the door as he was about to step out.

“We can be late to the party.”

Draco’s lip quirked into a knowing smirk. “Shouldn’t the devil be the one tempting the angel to be naughty?”

She rolled her glittering golden eyes and pulled Draco into a rough kiss by his tie. When she slid her tongue into his mouth she felt the sharp point of one of his fangs and pulled her tongue back in surprise but she liked it.

“You want to fuck the devil for his fangs?” Draco teased, kissing her again. He kissed her neck once before biting down gently and Hermione gasped. She could tell his fangs would leave bruises no matter how softly he bit

Hermione pulled Draco’s face from her neck cupping his cheek in her hand and thinking they may not actually make it to the Halloween party at all.

“It’s the horns actually,” she teased, “definitely the horns.”


	27. Ghost

“I haven’t seen you in a while. I thought perhaps you’d forgotten about me. Everyone always forgets about dreary old Myrtle.”

Draco’s lip quirked. She was baiting him. He knew. But he took the bait.

“No one could ever forget you, love.”

“Hmmph.” Moaning Myrtle floated past him with her arms crossed.

“Just forget to visit me then. Remember I’m all alone here and forget to come sat hello. That’s worse.”

Her comment stung. Draco knew his visits were becoming less and less frequent but Hogwarts wasn’t just haunted for him by the ghosts. He felt haunted by the war that was over. Haunted by the feelings of loneliness and helplessness he’d felt in these halls. It never got easier to come back.

“Where’s your wife?” Draco heard the bitterness in her question. Bitter that Hermione hadn’t come to see Myrtle? Bitter that she was Draco’s wife and not Myrtle? Bitter that Myrtle had died so young she’d never be a wife? He wasn’t sure. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.

“Gryffindor Tower. She wanted to see Fred.”

Draco was making himself dizzy walking in circles to follow Myrtle’s path. She moved around the bathroom like a mournful queen surveying her domain, and not approving of it.

“Nick passed on. Duncan passed on. You stopped coming to see me. All my friends abandon me.”

“Myrtle I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll come more often. I would never abandon you. You’re my friend. I’d actually like to invite you to a Halloween party Hermione and I are throwing–“

Myrtle soared up in his face. “What about our Death Day party?”

“We just thought since Peeves can leave the castle maybe you all could? And since Nick has passed on we weren’t sure who was throwing the Death Day party, if anyone was.”

Myrtle’s entire demeanor softened into girlish giggles. “You’ve come to invite me to a party?”

“Yes! Myrtle, I miss you. Will you please come?”

She pondered for a moment. “Ghosts can’t leave Hogwarts.”

“Peeves did.”

“Peeves is a poltergeist, not a ghost.”

Draco didn’t know the difference. Still he pleaded, “Can you try?”

“Yes, I will try.”

Draco felt like his eyes were stinging and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t want to cry right now. But maybe he did? He felt overwhelmed. He hated this castle and he loved his friend and he’d missed her.

“You can cry with me, Draco,” Myrtle cooed.” “You can always cry with me.”

Draco smiled and swiped his sleeve across his eyes.

He wished he could give Myrtle a hug, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m going to go say hello to Harry.”

Myrtle giggled again, “He’s doing Professor Lupin’s boggart lesson today. What are you afraid of Draco?”

The past. Ghosts. Losing Hermione. “I’m sure the boggart will let me know,” Draco quipped.

He left the bathroom and turned up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. He’d see Harry another time. He didn’t want to know what ghost the boggart would turn into.


	28. Cryptid

Hermione sat up in bed reading the morning’s muggle newspaper and the daily prophet while petting Crookshanks.

Draco snored softly beside her and she let him sleep on so she could read in peace.

On the left:  
MYSTERIOUS FLYING BEAST ATTACKS LONDON!

On the right:  
ESCAPED DRAGON SEEN FLYING OVER LONDON — THE MUGGLES ARE TERRIFIED!

Hermione chuckled to herself. According to the muggles, a massive scaly cryptid had proven itself real by attacking London. They never once said it was a dragon.

According to the wizards, the dragon didn’t attack anything or anyone. But it was seen!

How were they running such different stories about the same event. And yet it happened every day. Which is why Hermione insisted on getting both papers.

Draco, finally awake, turned to Hermione groggily. He saw the papers spread out on the comforter in front of her. “What’s today’s news?”

“We’ll probably get to see Charlie soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for sticking with me all month! This is my last finished drabble so this will be my last update until November. Happy Halloween!! 😊


	29. Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

Hermione ran a little through the trees behind their house but only until she found a good place to hide.

She burrowed into the dead leaves, cursing how loud they were and not caring about the brown bits sticking to her clothes and hair.

Hermione used to hate getting her period. She didn’t feel sexy. She didn’t feel up to a physical fight. It bothered her.

She didn’t look forward to getting her period. Who would? But she looked forward to these nights of role play play Draco when he made her feel sexy and capable of holding her own. She loved the thrill of running from a vampire.

Now from her hiding spot she could hear the crunch of leaves and snap of twigs as ‘a vampire’ walked toward her.

Draco stopped so close to her hiding spot she could see his feet though the leaves.

“The footprints stop right about here. I know you’re close, witch. Come out and let me taste you.”

Hermione’s neck practically itched with the anticipation of having Draco’s teeth scrape across it. 

Still she stayed hidden. Hermione watched Draco lean against a tree and...what was he doing?

“I’m going to wait for you right here, witch. I know you’re close.”

Draco pulled his cock free from his trousers and lazily stroked himself. Oh that devil! Hermione squeezed her thighs together.

Hermione emerged from her hiding place, scattering leaves everywhere and scaring Draco. She took off in a sprint, taking the head start while Draco tucked himself back into his trousers.

Then he was chasing her! How long should she let him run?

Hermione veered off to the side and hid behind a big tree trunk. She was sure Draco had kept on the same path, but he was on her in an instant.

“Boo!”

She turned her head and was nose to nose with Draco. He was so close. She was caught.

“Found you, witch.” He nipped hard at her earlobe and she wanted to melt into him.

Draco tilted Hermione’s face toward his and kissed her with a sweet gentleness that was ‘out of character.’

Then he growled and with a very Malfoy-esque smirk, tore her dress apart in one swift rip.

Hermione had worn a dress to avoid this. So they wouldn’t be fumbling with clothes in the woods and he wouldn’t tear anything. But she couldn’t deny how sexy it was.

With a snap he ripped her knickers at the thigh and then did it again on the other side and let the ruined bit of fabric fall to the ground.

“Draco, you can’t...” she started but he was already bending to scoop up the shredded knickers and stuffing them into his pocket.

“I don’t litter, witch,” he said with a dramatic eye roll just for her. What he meant was, I know if I litter you’ll stop the scene and make me clean it.

Draco pressed him lips to Hermione’s neck and as of to say, what shall I do with you next?, hummed a soft hmm into her skin. The vibrations made Hermione squirm.

“Patience witch!” Draco scolded, “Your blood is precious. I’m going to savor it.” The bite that followed was gentle but Hermione could tell he was still leaving a hickey.

This was another part of their role play that Hermione craved: Draco begging for her precious blood. It was old wounds. He didn’t believe muggleborns had inferior blood. But when they were younger and he said those things to her, it hurt. To have him now begging for her blood? She didn’t quite have the words to describe it. She felt powerful and lustful and desired.

Hermione considered making a break for it. Running again and giving Draco a better chase. He seemed to sense her idea though because he held her in place firmly to the tree and bit down on her neck hard enough to draw blood.

“Don’t even think about it, witch. I caught you! Now I’ll have my way with you”

Hermione batted her eyes into character and looked up at Draco, “what will you do with me?”

She felt Draco’s smirk against her skin, “Naturally, I’ll make passionate love to you under the moonlight. Did you know human blood tastes much better after they’ve had an orgasm?”

Hermione couldn’t contain a laugh. She wasn’t even sure if he’d read that or made it up.

“Mmhmm,” Draco hummed into Hermione’s neck, “and witch blood tastes best after several orgasms. So you’re in for a long night witch!”

Yes he had definitely made it up. Still Hermione grabbed Draco around the neck and kissed him.

“Such an eager witch! But no! I refuse to drink your blood until you’ve cum! No matter how much you tempt me!”

Hermione was still laughing but she tried to contain it and nodded seriously. “Do your worst, vampire!”

Draco gave her another devilish smirk, and he answered with his teeth.


End file.
